Wreathed in Shadows
by Willowstar157
Summary: After over a thousand years of being together, you would think you know someone, right? That you could trust them to always, always tell the truth? Especially if they're your own flesh and blood, your own family. Wrong. (Full preview/summary is in the first chapter... Sorry, it was just too long to put here. n.n;)
1. Preview

The rage was at a boiling point in me.  
It was a volcano.  
A volcano waiting to burst, to explode.  
And I knew I had to get away from them before it did.  
"Ekki tala við mig. Koma ekki eftir mig. Og ekki einu sinni hugsa um að hringja í mig Emil."  
 **(Do not talk to me. Do not come after me. And do not even think about calling me Emil.)**

After over a thousand years of being together, you would think you know someone, right? That you could trust them to always, always tell the truth? Especially if they're your own flesh and blood, your own family.  
 _Wrong.  
_ Iceland, or Emil Steilsson, has been with the Nordics for over a thousand years.  
They've been through ups and downs, they've been through tears and joys, but he's always felt alone. Distanced from the others. And he's never felt like any of them understood that.  
He's also always thought he was the youngest out of the entirety of Europe, which didn't exactly help the matter of feeling isolated from not just the Nordics, but all the other Nations.  
So, when he finds out he has a little sister, Greenland, he's both overjoyed and devastated.  
On one side, his family has been lying to him for his entire life, or so he thinks, and yet... He isn't the youngest. He isn't the last one. He isn't the farthest away from the others. Because there's someone else, and apparently there always has been.  
But why? The question constantly haunts him; and he's convinced himself that Norway isn't telling him the truth about this new girl. That there's a part of the story still hidden, and that it's his job to both find out what it is, and why it's been kept from him for his entire life.

 **A/N: This is just a little preview of another project I'm working on. I don't know why I wanted to get it up... I just did. Got no clue when exactly the first chapter will be up. I wanna get at LEAST halfway through with Amnesia before really starting another published fic. Cause I tried doing two at once and, and, evidently, it did not work out very well.  
So, yeah. Hope this peaked your guys' interest, and thanks for checking it out!**


	2. Forever of Nothing

**_WARNING:_** _**This story is a companion/spin-off of Amnesia. HOWEVER, it is set slightly ahead of the current events of Amnesia. Events won't be specifically tying together, but there will be references, and possibly (depending on what you define as) spoilers to Matthew's/Canada's memories and personality changes. These moments will be kept to a bare minimum, but Matthew will be playing an important role in the plot later on down the road.**_

 _ **If this may be a problem, I wouldn't recommend reading this until I've started tying in Wreathed in Shadows' plot in Amnesia's storyline as well vice-versa. That would be the cue for my other (totally freakin' awesome) readers that both are then set in the same time period. I'll also remove this warning when the aforesaid starts.  
**_

 _ **Now, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**_

 _ **Just as a side note, I've finally figured out how the heck to do the horizontal lines. So I'll be using those instead of single line breaks now. xD**_

* * *

" _If you don't get what you want, you suffer; if you get what you don't want, you suffer; even when you get exactly what you want, you still suffer because you can't hold on to it forever."_

 _~Dan Millman, Way of the Peaceful Warrior: A Book That Changes Lives are lessons_

* * *

Well, how do I start this? I guess maybe with an introduction..? Though, who's bothered to know me anyways… After all, I'm all alone. It can't really be helped though.

Oh well.

Cliché beginning to a book as possible, but I'm not in the best of moods to change things up and come up with my own thing.

Here goes, I guess…

My name's Iceland. But my friends all call me Emil. Emil Steilsson.

At least, friends is what they would tell you if you asked them about our relationship. I call it more 'let's keep bringing this guy who's really completely on his own to our meetings and talk to him.' But, in the end, who cares about my opinion, right? Nobody's ever bothered to ask about it anyways.

There's my big brother -though I'd never call him that to his face-, Norway, or Lukas Bondevik. Then there's Denmark, Mathias Khøler. And Sweden and Finland, Berwald Oxenstierna and Tino Väinämöinen, respectively.

There are others, of course, but the five of us are the main countries in Northern Europe.

Oh yeah, by the way, that's what we are. We're all living, breathing, immortal freaks that are literally the personified essence of dirt.

Dirt, and stones, and trees.

Great life, huh?

That basically means that there is no 'forever' with us. 'Forever' is nothing but a myth, a story, a saga lost over the grand course of time. 'Forever' is what you say to someone you love. 'Forever' is what you say when you lie.

Think I'm crazy? Think I should go curl up in a hole and die because I just ruined your naïve, oh-so perfect fantasy of life?

Well, let me put it this way. When you think of wars, you think of government problems, right? Well, try rethinking that. Try putting yourself in the shoes of someone who was quite possibly told 'forever' by someone they loved, only for centuries later to be stabbed in the back. Sometimes without warning, or even good reasoning.

That's my entire life summed up.

I can't remember the last time I really trusted anybody. I don't know why I ever even tried in the first place.

Want to know why? Why I just can't bring myself to trust anyone? Well, I'd suggest you buckle your seat belts. This is going to be one very long ride.

* * *

"Emil. Get up, the world meeting starts in half an hour."

"Þegiðu og láta mig sofa!" **(Shut up and let me sleep!)** I shoved a pillow over my head with a groan. It was a desperate attempt to cut out Lukas' persistent wake-up calls, failing when there was a series of loud _bangs!_ on my door.

"Come on little brother. You don't want to be late for this." Came the monotone voice.

"Yo Icey! Wake up already! We can't leave without ya!"

"Shut it, Dane."

"Ow ow ow ow ow ow owowowOWOW _OW_ _ **OW**_! Norge, you're doing the exact same thing as I am! _**Why**_?!" _How many times did big brother choke him…?!_ I widened my eyes under the pillow at the number of 'ows' that sounded from the other side of the door. It was a thing the two of them did, Mathias being some form of annoying and Lukas proceeding to choke him using the ever-present tie. Why the Dane didn't just get rid of it, I'll never know.

I never understood a thing going on in that man's head, and I think the feeling was probably mutual between my brother and I.

Sighing, realizing that there wouldn't be any hope in not going to the meeting anymore now that it wasn't just big brother trying to wake me up. Grudgingly, I kicked the warm blankets off my body, and quickly got up. Using my hands to smooth down my silvery hair instead of actually brushing it out, I walked out the door. Pausing a moment to ensure that there was no Norway in sight, I stepped out the door.

"Breakfast comes at a cost today, Emil." _Crap. I thought he was gone..!_

"I'm not saying it."

"You know you want to."

"I'm not gonna say it!"

"Come on, please."

"No! I'm not calling you big-" I froze mid sentence. His eyebrows flicked upwards, a small smirk revealing itself on his lips in a rare display of emotion.

"You were saying?" I glowered at him, wordlessly storming down the stairs and into the kitchen, effectively ending the conversation if my brother hadn't just done so himself. He followed a few paces behind me, almost grinning. Tino was in the kitchen, and when we walked in he stopped what he was doing.

"Oh, Emil. You're actually up." I glared at the Finnish icily. He just looked over at my brother questioningly. Somehow, the short nation came to the right conclusion from the tense silence between Lukas and I. "Oh my god, did he actually say it?"

"I didn't say anything!" I snapped curtly, sitting down at the table and pulling out my book. _Not like I'll get the chance to read, but it's worth a shot..._

"You almost did."

"I didn't say it though!"

"Whazzat?" Mathias' anti-gravity blonde hair poked out from behind the fridge door. He looked at me, then Lukas, then Tino, then back at me. "Icey, did you really? That's awesome!"

"Why is everyone just deciding to come to the conclusion that I said it?!"

"You almost did." My brother repeated himself from before.

"But I didn't! Where's Sve?! He'll agree with me!"

"Almost saying it is pretty much saying it." Came the deep reply from my right.

"Again? Really? Why are you always agreeing with them? Not cool, Sve!"

This.

This was the problem with these guys.

Ever since I had gotten a stupid DNA test done on myself a few years back, they've been obsessed with getting me to call Lukas 'Big Brother.' It wasn't necessarily that I didn't want to call him by the childhood name, at this point it was the principle of not backing down. I refused to call him 'big brother,' it was a question of pride.

And, as a Nation, I have more pride than most humans probably do in their entire bodies. It's a perk of the job. You're constantly paranoid that someone's going to try to kill you, and in return you have enough patriotism to keep the whole country fueled on it for months on end.

Which was kind of ironic, because that's exactly what we're supposed to be doing with our endless lives.

"We're going to be late if we don't hurry." Sve stated matter-of-factly. Tino jolted, turning to look at the clock.

"No! We can't be!"

"Wha' 'bou' breakfast?" Mathias asked, his mouth full from a slice of toast.

"Eat on the way!"

"W-what? How am I supposed to do that?" I groaned as the banter continued, knowing this was going nowhere fast. I put my book down and went off to find Mr. Puffin, my one constant, albeit sometimes annoying, companion through the ages.

It was like this every month. Every time the world meeting came around our house was chaos. It takes a little getting used too, and if someone has tricks on just how to do so I'd love to hear them. Because it's been centuries and I'm still trying to get used to it all.

* * *

I sighed, rubbing my temples.

"'ey, tough guy. You wanna skip?" Mr. Puffin asked me over the noise. Bickering for bickerings sake. As always. That was the name all the nations who weren't part of the G8 came up with for these meetings.

Because it was the same process.

Every.

Single.

Time.

"Shut it, Frog!"

 _Here we go again..._

"Just become French territory already, Black Sheep of Europe." Came the heavily French-accented retort.

"Not on your life! Go drown yourself in cheese, you wine-loving bastard!" I exchanged an exasperated glance with one of my best friends, Hong Kong, who sat on the other side of the table with the other Asian nations.

"Sorry but no, Mr. Puffin," I grumbled, "I need to be here. Just in case something important actually happens." _For once..._ I added to myself, not daring to say it aloud. _Though, nothing ever does… This is exactly why we have bosses, because someone help the poor souls who would be strictly run by one of these guys…_

Like I said earlier, personified essences of dirt. And the vast majority that dirt has some serious pride problems.

Not like I was really one to say that, but I'm one of the better off personifications.

"Will you both shut up and let the hero talk?" _Oh no… Not him too…_ Glancing up, I then threw my head against the table. _This is exactly the same course as always._ I felt a gaze boring into my head and lifted my head just enough to glare at my brother.

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"There's no point to these meetings."

"There is, though."

"Like what, exactly? The only things that ever happen are arguments and fights." Lukas merely gave me a small smile, ruffling my hair.

"You'll learn eventually." He chuckled before turning back to Mathias, who looked like he was about to die.

"Norgie, why do we have to be here?" He groaned.

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because we just have to."

"That's no answer." _I hope that Dane knows what he's getting himself into…_ I was tempted to stop him, but decided against it. _Whatever he gets, he has it coming for him. He should know by now not to-_ Lukas abruptly grabbed his tie for the second time that day, jerking it this way and that.

"I wonder how he has that range and strength without standing up…" Tino mumbled absently from my other side. Sve grunted in response. I turned towards the other two and shrugged.

"I'm not even sure if I want to know…"

"True," The short nation grinned, turning his attention back towards the G8. "Oh look... There's America's headlock…"

"Next up is France, I'll bet." I grinned halfheartedly. To pass the time Tino and I decided to anticipate the next moments of the argument.

After a few more minutes of constant bickering and both of us predicting, the Finnish checked his watch.

"And Germany should be right about-"

"Will everyone just shut up! Must I always take control of these meetings so we can accomplish anything productive?!" The two of us exchanged an amused glance and breathed out in unison;

"Right on time." Sve chuckled beside us, shaking his head.

"You two always do this, don't you?"

"Yup! Always!" Came the Fin's cheerful quip.

"It's really the only thing to look forward to." I answered at the same time.

We all jumped at the crash that followed next. Mr. Puffin actually took off into the air a few meters, small black wings scrambling desperately to get away.

"Oops." America audibly winced, examining the damage.

"What was _that_?" Mathias yelped.

"I'm guessing that." Lukas dipped his head towards the far side of the room, where shattered glass lay scattered across the floor from the once-huge window.

"What the-"

"Don't even bloody ask." England snapped, shooting a glare at America before taking his seat. _Wait… Where's Germa- Oh no, they couldn't have…_ But the more I looked through the G8, and the more I thought about it, the more I was convinced of that fact. Lukas confirmed my suspicions a moment later.

"Someone threw Germany out the window…"

"Well that's new…" Tino said, his eyes wide at the scene before him. Romania stood up from his seat, and Lukas immediately followed him, probably worried the hyper personification would do something. Though before either England -who was now also standing up and watching the Romanian warily, despite having just sat down- and my brother could do anything, he was beside the window and looking down through the hole.

"Hell to the yes! That was awesome!" He whooped energetically, "You guys have no clue how long I've wanted to see something like that happen!"

"You're over two hundred years old but you've never seen someone tossed out a window..?" Bulgaria snorted from his seat at England's question, looking down at his papers in an attempt to hide the obvious laughter.

"Aw hell no, dude! I've seen plenty of people tossed out the window! Actually, half the time I'm the one that's _doing_ the tossing! I'm talking about how I've always wanted to see one of _you guys_ tossed out one!"

"Romania…" Lukas started. His best friend glanced at him mid cheer.

"Yeah Nor?"

"Just… Never mind."

"Aw, c'mon Nor! Don't be one of those people and leave me hanging!" The hyper-active brunette pleaded. Lukas just shot him a look. Whether it was a 'shut up' or a simple glare, I couldn't tell. Even though he was my brother, I had a hard time guessing what was going on in his head.

"I said no."

"Please?"

"Romania," England said, once again in his seat. "You may want to sit down before Germany comes back."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Tell me, did you see him when you looked down?" Romania paled instantly, bolting over to his seat. Everyone else that had stood quickly followed his example and scrambled back, the last country sitting down the moment the door burst open. With a vein pulsing out of his head, the pissed off German stormed over to where America sat sheepishly in his seat.

After a moment of tense silence America slowly turned around to face him, an overly innocent grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Is there perhaps something you need, Germany? A reason as to why you are standing right behind me?"

"America!" A soft voice snapped from behind him. Everyone started. Everyone except me, America, Mexico, France, England and one.. Girl. _That's odd… I don't recognize her at all…_ I stared at her inquisitively, trying to place a name with her braided blonde hair and blue eyes. _I swear I've seen her from somewhere before..._

"Hey Tino, who is that?" I asked quietly. He turned to where I was looking and I swear his eyes could've bulged out of his head.

"Nobody you need to worry about, Ice." He murmured back, a little too hastily. _Country name..? Just who is that girl?_

"Are you sure..?"

"Yup! Definitely! Completely!"

"Can you two maybe shut up?" Lukas intervened.

"But-" Tino tried to protest, but Lukas cut him off again.

"Before Germany directs his anger at us. What were you being so loud about anyway?" _I thought he was trying to get us to be quiet, but now he's the one keeping us talking…_ Tino didn't say anything, just checked his head in the direction of the mystery girl. Lukas turned, before he quickly turned back.

"She's nobody, Emil."

"That's what you guys say, but you're acting awfully off about her-"

"She's nobody." Lukas repeated himself, his tone firmer this time. It left no room for argument. Grumpily, I turned my attention back to the tension-filled front of the table. Though the question of the girl never once left my mind.

* * *

~Greenland's PoV~

Sitting at my seat, I frowned when I felt a gaze burning into me. I turned towards it, only to see one of the last people I wanted to see. _He probably hates me after what happened… They all probably do..._ Emi- Iceland was staring directly at me, a glint in his eyes I couldn't quite place. I was about to wave at the Icelandic to let him know I had caught him staring at me when Mexico spoke up.

"Chica?" José examined me worriedly. _I must've been talking to myself again… Dammit, Dahlia. How can I break that habit…_

"I'm fine," I grunted, "Just thinking is all."

"I did not think that was possible for you." A smirk was on his face as I whipped around, glaring daggers at him with a comeback already on my tongue.

"Don't, you two. There's been enough problems in this meeting already." Canada whispered harshly, leaning over so he could further lower his voice and effectively stopping my retort before it could escape.

"You know Amigo, you don't have to do that. It's not as bad as it used to be, but people still have to focus on it in order to see you."

"Thank you for that, José. Truly." The Canadian muttered dryly. I tried and failed to hold back my snort, scrambling to cover it up with a fake cough as Germany turned his attention to the three of us. His gaze lingered on me for a moment before, seemingly satisfied I wasn't doing anything, turned back to examine his papers.

"How does he do that thing with his eyes? It's scary…"

"If you really want to know, I suggest you ask him instead of me." I snapped at the ravenette.

"Greenland, Mexico, please refrain from opening your mouth's for the duration of the meeting. It would be best for everyone." My eyebrows shot into my hairline, and José looked just about ready to die of laughter.

"Canada, what's with the formality?" He shot us both a glance from the corner of his eye. _He's still trying to get back his memories and catch up on world affairs… It_ is _the least we can do for him._

"Sorry, Matthew." I elbowed José in the ribs, forcing an apology out of the annoying Mexican as well.

Daring a glance towards the Nordics when nothing further was said between the three of us, my heart dropped when I saw Luk- Norway snapping something at Iceland without so much as looking at him. _I wonder what they said… Not fifteen years ago, I was sitting next to them… Now I can't even tell what they're saying…_

I managed to catch Mr. Puffin's eye, though. We stared at eachother for a few moments before the bird let out a short squawk, hopping onto Iceland's shoulder. The albino jumped slightly, exchanging a few words with his companion and turned his gaze back towards me. This time I managed to get in that wave, along with a small smile.

Iceland didn't so much as spare a glance at me for the rest of the meeting.

* * *

~Iceland's PoV~

The entire ride home I was silent. I just couldn't get her off my mind. _Who was she? Why can't I place a name? Is she maybe a new country? Though I haven't heard anything about another nation being formed..._

Wearily I flopped down on my bed, opening the cover of one of my favorite books _Brotherband Chronicles: The Outcasts._ I wasn't around for much of the Viking era - at least, not what the others were around for, so I felt like it gave me a bit more of a connection to what my brother, Mathias and Sve used to be.

It sucks being the youngest. Your older brother has so much more stories to tell, and the most you can do is sit down and listen. It's especially bad when you happen to be immortal, and everyone played a huge role in history.

Just because, you know, countries.

Personifications of countries.

We're kind of important in those terms.

Mentally exhausted after the freakishly eventful meeting, I flipped to the first chapter, running my finger delicately over the words before the book properly began.

 _Twelve years prior…_

 _Wolfwind emerged from the predawn sea mist like a wraith, slowly taking physical form._

 _With her sail furled and the yardarm lowered to the deck, and propelled by only four of her oars, the wolfship glided slowly toward the beach. The four rowers wielded their oars carefully, raising them only a few centimeters from the water at the end of each stroke so that the noise of drops splashing back into the sea was kept to a minimum. They were Erak's most experienced oarsmen and they were used to the task of approaching an enemy coast stealthily._

 _And during raiding season, all coasts were enemy coasts._

 _Such was their skill that the loudest sound was the_ lap-lap-lap _of small ripples along the wooden hull. In the bow, Svengal and two other crew members crouched fully armed, peering ahead to catch sight of the dim line where the water met the beach._

 _The lack of surf might make their approach easier but a little extra noise would have been welcome, Svengal thought. Plus white water would have made the line of the beach easier to…_

My thoughts trailed off from there, back to the meeting.

Back to the girl.

It was driving me insane, not knowing who she was. Our bosses made sure all the personifications knew each other. Heck, we made sure we all knew each other. Since we were immortal, in the end we really only had each other. Humans grew old and died, but we lived on.

So naturally we liked to at least make sure we knew everyone's names.

Sighing, realizing I wouldn't be doing much reading, I put the book down and stepped out of my room, just about to walk downstairs when I heard a voice and froze.

"I'm worried, though. You know Ice, he'll start looking into it. And we won't be able to stop him." Tino whispered. I leaned in over the railing in an attempt to hear what they were saying a bit more clearly.

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

"You know how close those two were, Finny. He will start asking questions." Mathias muttered. _Should I be hearing this?_

"You really don't need to state the obvious, Dane." My brother snapped, a little too harshly for his normal self. Hanatamago, Tino's dog, trotted over to me. I kneeled down, raising a finger to my lips and praying the little dog understood my meaning. Thankfully, he just stood there, his tail wagging back and forth. I smiled to myself, kneeling and scratching him just behind his ears in that way dogs love. Hana closed her eyes blissfully, so I afforded to turn my real attention back down the stairs.

"We should have been expecting it, though! How could we think to try and keep those two separated forever?" _Why did I even bother asking that, of course I shouldn't be hearing this…_

"What's done is done, Dane. There's nothing we can do about it now. He's seen her. What comes next is out of our control."

"It's for that reason I'm saying this!" Mathias protested, before there was a pause and the Dane continued, more calmly this time. "Norge, Icey's your little bro. Aren't you worried about what might happen?"

"And Greenland is your little sister. What's your point? We can't stop feelings. You should know that." I stopped listening there. I don't think I could have continued listening to their conversation even if I wanted to do so. _Little… Sister…? What…?_

Backing away from the edge of the stairs, I almost tripped over Hana when I whipped around and dashed back into my room, slamming the door shut behind me and throwing myself against the bed.

For some reason, I didn't hear any muffled voices coming from downstairs like I should have.

Everything was silent.

* * *

 **A/N: I won't be doing accents in this fic, in an attempt to keep things as professional as possible. I just don't have a good enough grip on them yet, especially for the Nordics (namely Sve,) ya know?**

 **I just got high hopes for this, and I don't want it ruined by crappy, out-of-character dialogue (in that category… I'm trying to not make anyone too OOC. Hopefully I'm succeeding better than my other fics so far.)**

 **Updates will be slow on this for three reason;**

 **1: Amnesia currently takes top priority. I have a higher commitment to it than this. At least, as things stand I do.**

 **2: These chapters are going to be hella long - I'm aiming at hopefully 4, 5000 words each. I wanna try to push my writing a little from my normal 1 or 2000.**

 **3: These chapters are going to be revised and cleaned until I'm ready to toss my iPad/computer out the window in frustration because of that** _ **one word**_ **that'll** _ **always**_ **be in there** _ **somewhere**_ **with which I'll have no clue how to "context" it and** **it will successfully drive me to the brink of death.**

 **Any** **w** **ays, hope y'all enjoyed this first chapter to a whole new adventure!**

 **DISCLAIMER:** **I DO NOT OWN BROTHERBAND. I WISH I DID, BUT I DON'T. MY FAVOURITE AUTHOR, JOHN FLANAGAN DOES. I** **ALSO** **DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN THE PASSAGE.** **IT IS NOT MINE. NOTHING. ZIP. ZERO. ZILCH. NADDA. AT ALL.** **Really** **though** **, you guys need to check him out. He's awesome, his writing is awesome, and his field craft is par-none, especially compared to other authors.**


	3. Letter of Nothing

_"It's so hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember."_

 _~justonesmile (Tumblr)_

* * *

~Iceland's PoV~

The silence remained for probably a minute. I didn't know if they had just lowered their voices, or if they had stopped talking entirely.

Then I heard footsteps on the stairs, quick and light and quiet. My eyes narrowed, glaring at the door. I jumped up, carefully jogging over to the window and sliding it up just enough so I could slip out the narrow hole. Two sole thoughts were running through my head as I nimbly climbed out, hugging the brick wall while I gained my balance on the precarious footing.

 _Don't get caught._

 _Don't get caught._

 _Don't get caught._

 _Get out._

 _Get out._

 _Get out._

Once the window had fallen closed, I dropped my hands, grabbing a part of the stone that was jutting outwards before lowering my feet.

The door inside my room opened.

I snapped downwards, letting my body plummet toward the ground. I spun myself midair, thankful for the natural, almost superhuman agility that came with being one of the younger personifications. Even though I was about one thousand two hundred years old, but that _was_ young for us.

Though, for us, that was nothing. A century goes by in the blink of an eye when you live an immortal life, unless of course we were at war with one of the others. Then things felt a little closer to human-pace.

Everything before the time when Lukas had found me, found Iceland, and inhabited it was extremely fuzzy. It was the same with all the younger generation. Before our first discovery, besides our initial inhabitants, everything was blurry. For me, it was when my brother had found me. For Canada and America, that was when me and my brother had crossed over from Greenland.

The list went on and on.

 _Wait…_

I pushed out that thought before I could even finish it. _There's no way… No way…_

I kept on repeating that to myself, and I wasn't sure if they were meant to convince myself or if they were just there to fill an empty silence in my head. I vastly preferred the latter, to be honest.

"Gone." Mathias' voice carried out the open window. I groaned, kicking myself for making that mistake. _How could I forget to close the window? Always close the window when you're making an escape! That's common sense! Flón!_ _ **(Idiot!)**_ I heard Tino's voice next, quieter than it normally was. And a lot more serious.

"What do you think he overheard?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Finny," I had to strain my ears to hear the Dane's muttered reply. "I wish I knew what was going on in that kids head sometimes."

"It's the same with Dahlia and Aksel, Mathias. They're still young-" My blood boiled when I caught Tino's response, and I cut off my focus from the conversation. _Aksel… Haven't heard that name in awhile. He's the personification of the Faroe Islands…_ I clenched my fist as I came to the only conclusion that that really led towards. _They're playing the age game again, huh…? I guess they won't miss me, then._ With that thought, I dashed away from my hiding place directly under the window, sticking as close to the wall as I possibly could.

I thought I heard Mathias let out an abrupt shout, but I didn't stick around to verify if he actually had. I just pushed off the idea. There's no way he could've seen me, I was ensuring sure to stay out of places he could see from the window.

That is, I managed to push it off until I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around me, yanking me inside the house as I passed in front the door.

* * *

~Greenland's PoV~

I couldn't get the look Emil had given before out of my head. The blank yet oh-so curious stare that had come from those deep violet eyes seemed like such a foreign expression on him.

Maybe it was just how it felt to me. After all, it's been so long since I've had any actual contact with the Nordics. But that thought scared me more than anything, the idea that I'd started forgetting the small things. _The small things are what matter most in the world._ Mathias' voice rang through my ears.

All those things he had taught me. Emil and I had learnt alongside each other, being trained by Lukas and Mathias.

 _I owe those guys everything, and yet how did I repay them… Damnit, jeg er sådan en fjols… Why did I have to leave them…?_

 **(** _ **Damnit, I'm such an idiot…**_ **)**

With a sigh, I pulled myself out of the past. I reached into my pocket, pulling out the letter addressed to them. I had long ago wrote it, but I had never been able to bring myself to actually send it to them. Slowly I pulled it out of the worn, yellowing envelope, unfolding it gently to read the slightly crinkled bundle of papers. For probably the hundredth time, I reread the words that were scrawled in black ink across the page.

 _Hej_ _ **(Hey)**_ _Mathias,_

 _By the time you're reading this, chances are I've already left. I'm sorry I couldn't explain. I'm sorry I couldn't stay. You know how it is with our kind, right? Things happened with the big guy, and I guess you know by now what the end result was. I'm hoping that this won't affect us personally; I have and always will consider you my older brother._

 _I owe you, and the other Nordics, everything. There's no way I'll be able make it up to any of you. Maybe if I had an idea where to start? You've all done so, so much for me, and there's no way I'll ever be able to repay any of you. How can one even start to thank those who took her in under their wing blindly, and never stopped caring? I'd truly love to know the answer to that question._

 _Oh well. What's done is done, huh? I can't change the past. The only thing I can really do is move forward now. I'll never stop trying to come back to you guys, though. We're family, I'll never forget that. I can only hope that you'll do the same._

 _If you never fight the battles you may lose, how do you have the right to call yourself a warrior, right? You told me that once, long ago. You, and Nor, and Ice, were always there. I know I've said this a lot in such a short letter, but I'll never forget. I honestly can't stress it enough._

 _After all..._

My life is violent.

Violent is life.

Peace is a dream,

 _Reality a knife._

 _Jeg elsker dig,_

 _ **(I love you,)**_ _Dahlia Khøler_

With a sigh, I dropped it back into its envelope.

"'Won't affect us personally,' huh?" I let out a dry laugh, talking to myself. "How was I such an idiot when I wrote this… I haven't spoken to him, or any of them, outside official summons in ages. I guess the only thing I can do is hope that what was broken can still be fixed."

It never even crossed my mind that that was a broken phrase, a broken promise, and it was one that I had first given over fifty years ago.

* * *

~Iceland's PoV~

"Ow! Hey, við skulum fara um mig, mun þé?!"

 **"(Let go of me, will you?!)"**

"Ikke før du gir oss en sjanse til å forklare oss selv, Emil."

 **"(Not until you give us a chance to explain ourselves, Emil.)"** Came the Norwegian monotone.

"Fine. But don't think I'm going to listen." I grumbled, gathering myself enough to successfully push off my brother and glaring at him.

"That'll be your choice, but I recommend you do." The Norwegian stated matter-of-factly, his face devoid of any emotion. _Even though he's my brother, I can't read him. Not even after all these years…_ _Am I really that alone…?_

"You know how there aren't just personifications of countries, Icey?" Mathias asked, walking over and helping Lukas up. _When did he come down…? Why didn't I sense him?_ He offered me hand up too, but I got to my feet by myself. I made sure to take a step back, so I was standing closer to the door. The Dane continued, not noticing my shuffle away from him. "That there are personifications for colonies, Provinces, States, even national symbols, too?"

"In case you're forgetting, I was one myself," I commented dryly, narrowing my eyes at the taller blond. "It's kind of a thing throughout the _younger_ countries." Accentuating the 'younger,' an odd wave of satisfaction coming when Tino visibly winced from his place behind Mathias.

I knew if Mathias made a move - tried to block the door, or grabbed me like Lukas had moments ago, there was no chance I would be able to get away. _Wait, why am I thinking that_ Denmark _will attack me? Of course he wouldn't… Would he?_ I watched the taller blond warily, trying to make up my mind about what he would do.

"Yeah, I know that. Did you think I would forget?" His normally hyper tone was oddly gentle; patient, almost. _It doesn't sound like Mathias at all._

"I built a wall in your brain, Emil. That's why you don't remember her as a person. I blocked off your memories of Dahlia Khøler." Lukas said bluntly, and Mathias shot the Norwegian a glare.

 _This isn't them._

"What? Why would you do that?"

 _I won't believe it._

"It's just that she… We didn't want you to have those memories, but-"

 _I refuse to believe they would do something like this._

"But what? What memories? Did you think it wasn't important for me to know?" Something in me snapped. I glared at them.

 _They have no idea... No idea! Even after so long!_

I just couldn't bring myself to.

 _It hurts way too much._

"Next time, I suggest you tell me before a thousand years have passed that I have a little sister, _big brother_."

I spat out the last two words.

The title stuck on my tongue like bile.

 _The name he's been trying to get me to say, that they've all been trying to get me to say, for so long… And this is how I use it? I can't even control what I'm saying anymore._..

The rage was at a boiling point in me.

It was a volcano.

A volcano waiting to burst, to explode.

And I knew I had to get away from them before it did.

"Ekki tala við mig. Koma ekki eftir mig. Og ekki einu sinni hugsa um að hringja í mig Emil."

 **"(Do not talk to me. Do not come after me. And do not even think about calling me Emil.)"**

With that, I spun around, walking out of the house, through the door that stayed hanging open on its hinges.

Oddly enough, they didn't squeak when I yanked it shut behind me, like it normally would have.

I didn't look back as I ran over to the stables, opening the wooden door and walking over to the stall where I knew I would find who I was looking for.

A gentle nicker greeted me and when I received a soft headbutt on my shoulder, I choked out a sob despite my best attempts at keeping the tears down.

I didn't want to cry.

I didn't need to cry.

I wasn't a little kid anymore.

So why can't I stop the flood of tears that were now falling freely down my cheeks?

I didn't saddle up. I just threw myself on Blesa's back and set her into a gallop before we even got out the barn door. We left the clearing that surrounded the house as quickly as we could, the dun Icelandic mare seeming to sense that I needed to just _get out_ , and fast.

I didn't think I could sit the Tölt, not with how I felt right now. So I leaned down and somehow choked out the words,

"Stay in this gait, girl..."

She tossed her head in understanding. I was thankful that Nations like us could have such a strong bond with animals, especially our horses.

It made life easier, and happier.

Happier on most days, at least.

* * *

Four hours I sat there, clinging onto the mare's mane, trying not to think about what had transpired between me and the others, grateful for the stamina she possessed.

 _Mathias has a little sister..._

I paused, trying to remember the girl's name.

 _Greenland, huh..._

The idea felt so foreign to me. I had always been the youngest Nordic.

"Mathias has a little sister..."

I repeated it out loud, trying to get used to the words on my tongue.

It felt foreign, weird, even unnatural. Whether I said it out loud or in my head, they just didn't sit well with me.

I couldn't even tell why. Besides the fact that I had never known, never been told, of course.

That was probably the worst thing about it all.

It felt horrible, and I couldn't even give a reason for it.

I couldn't even explain my own thoughts or feelings, and I hated it. So much.

"Though, Lukas had said something about blocking my memories…? And then Mathias said he didn't want me to have them… I wonder what he meant by that…" I murmured to myself, thinking things over. "What could've possibly happened between us and her that would've driven them to such drastic measures…?" I let out a sarcastic laugh.

"Or maybe it had nothing to do with me. Wouldn't surprise me at all, really. They've never cared much about me, anyway. I probably never even knew whatever was going on, was going on either way," I paused, thinking it over for a moment. "Though if that's the case, why can't I just stop thinking about it…?"

Blesa's ears twitched at the sound of my voice. I reached out, rubbing her neck.

"It's nothing, Blesa," I muttered, "I've just been lied to my entire life is all..." She nickered worriedly. I smiled despite myself, despite the mood I was in. _She's so kind… I'm so lucky…_

"Really, I'm fine." I choked on the words.

She skid to a stop suddenly, halting in the middle of the woods.

"Huh? What's wrong? It's not like you to just stop like that," I murmured, "What's out there?" Her ears were pricked forward, and I felt her small, compact body tensing under me. _Okay, something's definitely wrong… She never goes into high alert mode like this unless she's noticed something strange…_

I looked around.

Unsure, I kicked my legs over her back, pushing myself off her back.

"Hver er þar? Ég veit að þú ert þarna úti; sýndu þig!"

 **"(Who's there? I know you're out there; show yourself!)"** I called out to the woods, for the first time realizing the mist that was settling in around us, steadily falling closer to the ground.

And cloaking us almost perfectly for a possible ambush.

When nobody answered my request, my militia instincts snapped, and I took a few steps towards the edge of the path we were on.

"Ég er ekki að spyrja. Sýna þig, núna! Hver sem þú ert!"

 **"(** **I'm not asking. Show yourself, now! Whoever you are!)"**

Somehow over the past few hours, it had never even struck my mind that Mr. Puffin had possibly followed me out of the house.

"Hey, tough guy! What the hell were ya thinking back there? Your buddies are worried sick, ya know!"

"Oh, for the love of- Mr. Puffin, do you have any idea how much you scared me?" Blesa whinnied in protest, "Correction; scared _us_?" I said with a pointed glance over my shoulder at the red dun. She tossed her head.

"Well, the other's are all worried sick about ya! My job to bring back the tough guy that just couldn't cry in front of his family."

"They're not my family." I snapped.

"What? What're ya talking about? 'Course they are!"

"They've lied to me, Puffin. For almost a thousand years! I thought I knew them better than that!"

"Yeah yeah, ya said the same thing to them. Now, get back on that pony-"

"Horse." I retorted at the same instant Blesa let out an angry neigh.

"Horse, pony, whatever the hell she is. Get back on, and get ya butt in gear, or ya brother said he'd send his trolls after ya."

"Ertu að djóka?"

 **"(Are you serious?)"** _Crap..._

"Yeah! Now get ya butt in gear and get going!" I was the only one of the other Nordics who could see the Fae, even though I couldn't do magic. Maybe it was because I grew up with Lu- Norway...? Though, America and Canada couldn't see them, even though they grew up with England. _That couldn't be it... It doesn't make any sense..._

"Not cool, Lukas," I muttered, before backstepping a few and tossing myself back onto Blesa's back. She whipped around, and I easily moved her into the Flying Pace. "Not cool at all…"

Though, on the inside, one thought was running through my head.

 _No trolls, no trolls, no trolls, please, for the love of Odin, no trolls..._

* * *

 **A/N: I just want to clarify something about Mexico/José. I know normally in Mexico (or just general Spanish culture I think) you would address friends as Amigo/Amiga, and normally that's what he'll do. However, with Greenland/Dahlia, their relationship is at the level of him (teasingly) addressing her as "chica (girl)." It's almost like England's "Frog" when it comes to France, but instead of history, I based their frenemy-ness on the polar opposite climates. They describe their friendship as literally "hot and cold." Just wanted to explain that, 'cause some people were correcting me on the title last chapter and I'm reading the (much appreciated though!) reviews and messages, sitting there like "Nuuuuuuu I know what I did…"**

 **I** _ **do**_ **do research on my characters before writing about them, though I feel like sometimes it isn't quite enough. There's only so much the internet can tell you about a culture, after all. So** _ **any**_ **thing you guys have to say about your cultures characters that y'all feel I messed up/missed/possibly a typo, PLEASE let me know about it. If it's intentional (like this) I'll explain it (like this) in the next chapters A/N. If it's not I'll go fix it first chance I get and send a private thanks.**

 **Don't be scared to hurt my feelings, guys. I'm a hardcore Hetalian. Our fandom has a tendency to be thick-skinned. What, considering two of the main characters walk around in Nazi uniform, I feel kinda sorry for any of us who are easily insulted.**

 **Also, Dahlia reverts to Danish over Greenlandic due to several centuries of that being her primary language. It's just a habit she's never been able to break.** **Though mainly because there's no English-Kalaallisut translator anywhere on the web and I've checked bloody everywhere for one.**

 **Well, as always, HOPE Y'ALL ENJOYED!**


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